Alone in a Crowded Room
by Frost Hobbit
Summary: This is the story of what happened in the years before Inkheart began, when Resa was a captive in Capricorn's village, and Dustfinger just wanted to go home. These two circumstances lead them to meet. Resa/Dustfinger
1. Chapter 1

**A/N This is basically the story of what went on in the years Resa and Dustfinger knew each other before Inkheart began. (Because you gotta admit, there was something going on there. ;-)) Um, anyway, my first Inkheart fic, obviously, since I'm fairly new to the fandom, so I hope I've got everyone in character and such. I know the first chapter isn't terribly interesting, but it does get better. Reviews are loved! Oh, and by the way, I HAVE NOT READ INKDEATH yet. I hope to get it next weeked, but in the meantime please try not to spoil me!! :-)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Inkheart. If I did, we'd have more Dustfinger/Resa moments. Because I love Roxane, but come on. Talk about tension and cuteness between these two. I also have to say that I can't take credit for the title of this fic. It's a line from "Dark Blue" by Jack's Mannequin. Great song, check it out.**

Dustfinger crept silently into the old red church where Darius, that idiotic stutterer, was reading aloud for Capricorn from _Inkheart_. Dustfinger's ticket to get home. Everyone's attention was focused on the reader, making it easy for Dustfinger slip inside and duck behind the alter to watch. Darius was apparently reading out Capricorn's maidservants. It made Dustfinger sick, watching him pull the women from their home into this disgusting world. The one thing Silvertongue had going for him was at least he had gotten Dustfinger here in one piece, whereas most of the poor maids that Darius was bringing out were disfigured, or crippled in some way.

Dustfinger eyed the book in Darius's shaking hand, almost hungrily, and reviewed his steps. 1) Get the book. 2) Find Silvertongue. 3) Make Silvertongue read him home. He wasn't about to trust his fate with Darius's clumsy reading. Okay. Simple plan, Dustfinger. Good. Now we'll see if you have the courage to go through with it.

Darius was reading another woman out of the book. Her long golden hair shone very slightly through the darkness and her blue eyes glanced around in confusion. Even in the dim light, Dustfinger could see that she was beautiful. He squinted, trying to see her better. Something about her was so familiar. Did he know her from the old days? Was she a friend of Roxane's?

The woman's lips were moving rapidly. No sound was coming out. She had been muted in her transition from world to world, poor girl. Dustfinger knew only too well the confusion she must be going through. He saw Capricorn nod his head to Basta, who grabbed the woman by the arm and dragged her to the door to follow the rest of the maids to their quarters.

Dustfinger was torn. He glanced from the woman, to the book, and back again. There will be other chances to get the book, he told himself sensibly. In fact, it would be much less dangerous to take it later, after it had been put away. Providing he could find it. Maybe one of the maids would tell him. Maybe not. But why did the woman look so familiar? Maybe she could give him news of everyone he'd left back home. Cloud-Dancer, the Black Prince...Brianna, Rosanna...Roxane. He had to know. With one last glance around him, he darted after Basta and the woman.

He crept down the gloomy streets of Capricorn's village quietly, close enough to hear Basta's voice but not close enough to be caught. Why was he doing this? Why was he going on such a foolish trip just to find out the identity of a woman he might not even know? Such a coward, Dustfinger, he berated himself, and increased his pace.

"Come along, pretty one," Basta crooned. "Your new quarters are this way....now, stop trying to get away, little pigeon, or I'll introduce you to my knife!" He drew it and waved it in the woman's face. "Wouldn't want to ruin that pretty face..."

The woman stopped pulling against him and allowed Basta to lead her through the maidservants' quarters, Dustfinger several steps behind. Basta reached the end of the hallway, opened a door and pushed the woman inside. "Make yourself at home," he sneered before slamming it shut. Dustfinger flattened himself against the wall, trying to blend in with the shadows as Basta walked past, twirling his knife. Then Dustfinger dashed down the hall and knocked on the woman's door.

The blue-eyed woman opened the door and started at the sight of him. Dustfinger's hand automatically went to the scars on his face. He knew how shocking they were to those not accustomed to seeing them. "Sorry to bother you, er.... ma'am," he muttered, eyes downcast. "I wanted to see if you were all right. I know Basta is a bit less-than-comforting." His lips twitched upward slightly.

The woman gave him a small smile back and motioned for him to come in. Dustfinger entered awkwardly, looking around. It was a typical maidservant's room - small, one bed, plain stone walls with a few shelves, a creaky wooden chair. The blonde woman was the only occupant. Dustfinger sat down in the chair and looked up at her. "I understand how hard it is being plucked out of your world like that," he said abruptly. "I was brought here against my will too. I thought we might be able to help each other out, you know... " He trailed off. The woman smiled sadly and touched her lips. Dustfinger remembered. "You're mute." She nodded. Dustfinger looked away awkwardly, then back. "My name's Dustfinger," he blurted.

The woman's eyes lit up in recognition at his name and she extended her hand. Dustfinger shook it. Her lips formed a word. Dustfinger watched closely while she repeated herself a few times, then understood. "Resa? Is that your name - Resa?" She nodded. Dustfinger smiled. "Have we met before, Resa? You look very familiar to me." Resa shook her head, eyebrows furrowed. "No? I never saw you at home, maybe?"

She shook her head again, lips moving, and a look of frustration crossed her face at her inability to speak. "Where did you live back in our world? Well, you must've worked at Capricorn's palace, I suppose. Did you ever come out into the village? Maybe I saw you there, when I was - " He reached into his pocket and struck a match. He watched it burn for a few moments, running his fingers through the flame, then put it out. Resa laughed, a high, clear, giggle, but shook her head. Dustfinger shrugged. "Maybe I'm just slowly losing my mind. This world does things to a man." Resa laughed again. He liked the sound; he couldn't help smiling back at her.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Dustfinger held his breath and waited for the footsteps to pass, hoping against hope that Basta would not open the door, Basta and his stupid knife. He heard the footsteps retreat down the hallway and let out a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry - I shouldn't be here - " He stood up, Resa blinking at him in confusion. "I have to go, there's something I need to get!" He grasped her by the shoulders. "I'll come back and see you, all right?" Lying, Dustfinger? "I mean - I'll try. Good luck!" He darted out the door, leaving Resa on her own.

**A/N Thanks for reading! I'll have another chapter very soon. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Chapter two, for your enjoyment. Hope everything looks okay in this chapter! I kinda like the end of this one. More to come! Reviews are appreciated! Oh, by the way, I finished _Inkdeath_ and LOVED it. It was amazing.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Inkheart_. It was written by Cornelia Funke.**

Dustfinger quietly entered the room the maidservants were cleaning and spotted Resa's blonde hair next to the fireplace, where she was scrubbing the floor. He crossed the room and knelt beside her. "Resa." She looked up, and smiled slightly. Her lips formed his name. He smiled back and nodded his head. "How are you?" Resa shrugged and nodded her head. "Good, you're all right." He moved closer to her, lowering his voice and checking to make sure they weren't being watched. "Can I ask you a question?"

She furrowed her brow at him and nodded.

"How much do you know about - about what goes on here?"

Resa blinked and tilted her hand from side to side - so-so.

"Good! Do you know - " He lowered his voice even more, "Do you know where they keep the book?"

_Inkheart_? Resa's lips said.

"Yes, _Inkheart_. Do you know where it's kept?" he asked urgently.

Resa looked down and shook her head. _Sorry_, she mouthed.

"It's all right," Dustfinger said, heart plummeting. "I'll try and find it myself. Thank you, Resa." He made to get up; Resa put her hand on his. He looked at her questioningly.

She motioned at him, miming opening a book. Dustfinger looked at her, puzzled. "I'm sorry, I don't - ?"

Frustrated, Resa seized a piece of charcoal from the fireplace and scrawled something on the floor. Letters. Dustfinger blinked. "You can write?"

Resa nodded impatiently.

Dustfinger shook his head. "I can't read. I'm sorry."

Resa looked around the room and mouthed _Later_. She motioned at herself and at Dustfinger. "You want me to come see you later?" he guessed. He shifted uncomfortably. "All right," he gave in. "After sundown, though! I'm not going through all this just to get myself caught!"

Resa laughed quietly and nodded, her blue eyes sparkling.

"Where am I meeting you?" Dustfinger asked reluctantly.

Resa took the charcoal stick and drew a quick sketch on the floor - Capricorn's village, with an arrow pointing to an area some distance beyond the red church. Dustfinger looked at her. "You can get there?" She nodded. "Be careful, then. I'm not going to get caught, so no sense in you getting caught either."

----

Dustfinger walked across the small field many yards behind the church. "Resa!" he called in a loud whisper. She sat up a few feet away from him, where she'd been lying in the long grass, watching the sun set. She motioned to him - he went over and sat beside her. She made a motion as if she was striking a match. Dustfinger caught on and lit a small candle that he had in his pocket. He cleared a space in the grass and carefully set it down. Resa nodded and reached into her pocket. She took out several sheets of paper; most were blank, but a few bore words. She laid one on top of the others. There was a word printed in large letters: DUSTFINGER. Dustfinger looked at Resa quizzically.

"I can't read, Resa - " She pressed a finger to his lips, then gestured toward him, then to the paper. _Dustfinger_, she mouthed.

He studied her closely for several moments, then understood. "My name?" He tapped the paper. "This is my name?"

Resa nodded, smiling, then moved the paper to the bottom of the pile. The next one read RESA. She gestured to herself.

"And that must be your name," he muttered. "What's this about, Resa?" He looked at her. "What, you want to teach me to read?" He laughed humorlessly. "How are you going to manage that?"

Resa smiled, and printed I CAN below her name on the paper. _I can_, she mouthed.

----

It was many weeks before Dustfinger was able to understand almost everything Resa wrote through their teaching sessions behind the church. Finally Resa printed the question she had wanted to ask him so long ago. HOW DID YOU GET TO THIS WORLD?

Dustfinger scratched his head. "How did I get here? There was a man, they call him Silvertongue, he read me out of the book." Then Dustfinger's stomach turned over. He remembered where he had seen Resa before. A picture on the coffee table at Silvertongue's house - of Silvertongue and his wife. How had he not realized, he wondered as his heart plummeted. Silvertongue's wife was Resa. He pushed the thought from his mind, and put his hand on Resa's, stopping her frantic scribbling. "Resa? Why don't you come out here once more tomorrow night?" He grinned. "I can show you how I can dance with fire."

Resa looked at him and smiled. I'D LIKE TO, she wrote.

----

Dustfinger yanked his shirt over his head and juggled the unlit torches experimentally. Good. He hadn't done this for awhile, and had been worried he might be out of practice. He smiled to himself. Fire was one thing that had remained consistent in both his world and this one, but even fire was different here. It bit and burned, didn't listen to him, and was more likely to get out of his control. What did it matter, though? Fire was the one thing Dustfinger loved that even Silvertongue's sorcery couldn't take from him.

Resa ran across the field to him and waved.

"Hello, Resa." Dustfinger waved her closer. "How are you? Is everything okay?" She nodded. "No one's noticed you leaving in the evenings, have they?" Dustfinger wanted to smack himself. Why did he care so much? He'd invited her here because of his love for fire - right? The fact that he'd wanted an audience again - right?

Resa shook her head in response to his second question and seated herself in the grass before him, smiling. He grinned back in spite of himself and lit the torches. "Don't sit too close," he warned, backing up. "It'll get hot."

Dustfinger prepared to toss the torches into the air until he felt prickly little claws digging into his leg. The horned marten's face blinked accusingly up at him. "Gwin!" He hadn't seen the marten for several days. Gwin glared up at him. "Don't look at me like that. You're the one who ran off - ow!" Gwin scurried up Dustfinger's body and scrambled onto his shoulder, sharp claws digging into his bare skin. "You awful little beast!"

Resa was laughing. Dustfinger grinned at her. "Pardon me for not introducing my friend - this is Gwin, a companion of mine for many years - OW!" Gwin bit the back of his neck. Dustfinger stuck a few of his torches into the ground and seized the marten by the tail. "And Gwin - " Gwin snapped at his fingers - Dustfinger set him on the ground. "This lady is Resa. Bite her and I'll burn that little tail off." Gwin looked at him contemptuously, curled up, and went to sleep. Resa giggled and rubbed the back of her neck, pointing at Dustfinger. "No, don't worry, I'm fine. Been bitten many a time by the little rat."

He picked up his torches. "Sorry for the interruption." Dustfinger started with two torches, gradually adding more and more until he created what seemed to be a perfect ring of fire dancing in the moonlight. How he loved fire! He watched Resa's face through the whirling flames. She was laughing, her whole face lit up -

He felt a burning pain on his left hand. He yelped and dropped the torches. They hit the ground and fizzled out. He examined his hand - an angry red burn ran across it, worse than any he'd had before. Resa leapt up and ran to him, taking his hand and looking at it in concern. She looked up into his eyes anxiously.

"I'm fine," he muttered, his cheeks burning. He'd never dropped a torch before. Never, let alone all of them! Never been burned like this! And of course it had to happen in front of her! What on earth had distracted him?

Resa clicked her tongue in sympathy, sitting down and pulling him down next to her. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a rag. Dustfinger watched her tear it into a long strip and wrap it around his hand. Dustfinger closed his fingers around hers. "Thank you, Resa. Really, I'm fine. I've been burned before, too."

Resa looked down and tied the rag tightly. Impulsively Dustfinger placed a hand on her face. She looked up at him nervously; before he could stop himself he leaned over and kissed her on the lips.

Resa stared at him, stunned, for several moments afterwards. Idiot, idiot, idiot, Dustfinger screamed inwardly at himself. "Resa - "

Resa stood up and looked around the field uncertainly, wiping her hands on her skirt. Then she gave Dustfinger a slight wave goodbye and began her run back to Capricorn's village. Dustfinger stood up and looked after her. "Resa!" he yelled, forgetting to keep his voice down. She didn't turn back.

Dustfinger swore loudly, waking Gwin from his nap. The marten twitched his tail impatiently and hissed. "Don't give me that, Gwin," Dustfinger snapped. "I'm not in the mood!" Quickly he pulled his shirt back on and raced after Resa.

**A/N Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Here's chapter three, if anyone's still reading this. I didn't get any reviews for chapter two, but I'll post this anyways because I like it. Basta makes another grand appearance in this one. I love Basta. He's such fun to write and torment. XD**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Inkheart, I would've put in lots more Dustfinger-taunting-Basta moments. From this, we can only assume that I don't own it. We assume correctly. Cornelia Funke wrote Inkheart, not Frostpaw.**

Dustfinger pounded on the door of Resa's room, his heart pounding almost as loudly. He wasn't sure what he was more afraid of - being caught in the maidservants' quarters, or Resa not opening the door. "Resa!" he said as loudly as he dared. "Open the door. It's me!"

The door opened and Resa beckoned him inside, her face blank and her eyes lowered. He entered, shutting the door behind him, and slumped into the wooden chair. "Resa, I - "

She put a finger to her lips and grabbed his left hand, unwrapping the bandage she'd placed on his burn and placing a basin of water in Dustfinger's lap. She knelt beside him and dipped a rag in the water. She still didn't look at him. Dustfinger took the rag and pressed it against the burn. The cool water felt good. "Resa, I'm sorry."

Resa touched a finger to her lips once again and handed him a scrap of paper. IT'S ALL RIGHT. Dustfinger nodded with relief.

Resa wrapped the bandage around his hand once again, then scribbled something else on the paper. I'M CONFUSED.

"You're confused? Why? About what?" Dustfinger asked, blinking.

Resa finally looked up at him, raised her eyebrows and motioned at herself, then to him. AREN'T YOU MARRIED? she wrote, her writing becoming messier and harder for him to read.

Dustfinger sighed. "Roxane." He pushed his hair out of his eyes. "Well, so what if I am?" he asked defensively. "_She_ probably thinks I'm dead. I know Roxane. She won't wait for a good-for-nothing coward like me to come home."

Resa smiled softly. YOU AREN'T GOOD-FOR-NOTHING.

"But I am a coward?" Dustfinger smiled back wryly. Resa shrugged. Dustfinger laughed bitterly."Don't try to hide it, Resa. I am a coward. I know it, and so do you." Dustfinger heard footsteps in the hall outside and closed his mouth.

Resa's eyes were wide with fear. _Basta_, she mouthed. Dustfinger's heart skipped a beat. "What is he doing here?" he hissed.

Resa wrote furiously. HE COMES HERE SOMETIMES. Dustfinger didn't need her to elaborate - Resa went to the window and opened it. _Go_! she mouthed to him. Dustfinger needed no second bidding. He climbed out the window and dropped lightly to the street below. Looking up, a surge of annoyance coursed through him. Resa was following. She leapt to the ground beside him and looked up at him. "Come on, then," he growled, taking her by the wrist and starting to run.

"Why are you coming with me?" Dustfinger hissed, glaring at Resa as they ran. Resa shrugged and ducked down a side street. "Resa!" Dustfinger swore and darted after her.

She was leaning against the wall of the dark alley, writing. I WANT TO ESCAPE. I DON'T WANT TO BE A PRISONER. Dustfinger struck a match and held it up to read.

"Are you insane, Resa?" Dustfinger growled. "They'll catch you, and who knows what they'll do when bring you back?"

I'M NOT AFRAID! Resa narrowed her eyes at him.

"Oh, you're not afraid, are you? Well, I am!" he snapped.

ARE YOU AFRAID FOR YOURSELF, Resa wrote furiously, OR FOR ME?

Dustfinger looked down. "I don't know! I don't know anymore!"

Resa looked at him gently. Her fingers traced the scars on his face.

"You know where my scars came from, Resa?" he began, hoping to scare her out of trying to escape. "When Basta - " Resa's lips touched his and Dustfinger, for a moment, forgot where he was as he touched Resa's cheek and gently kissed her back.

A sharp laugh brought them back to reality and Dustfinger jumped away from Resa.

"Well, well, well," Basta said, emerging from the shadows at the entrance to the alley. "I suspected our little mute songbird was sneaking off in the evenings, but never dreamed it was you she was meeting, Dustfinger! I must say I'm surprised to see you back here. I wouldn't think you'd risk your cowardly neck. You wouldn't want to be reintroduced to an old friend, would you?" Basta drew his knife and waved it suggestively.

Resa shoved Dustfinger behind her and glared at Basta. Basta laughed. "Oh, this is a change! A maidservant prepared to die for a lowlife fire-eater...." He approached them slowly, running his finger up and down the blade of his knife. Resa stood her ground, straightening up in front of Dustfinger.

"Resa, don't!" Dustfinger pushed her aside. It was just Basta. One man. One man....with a long, sharp knife....Dustfinger touched his scars involuntarily.

Basta laughed harshly. "You remember that day? So do I. I remember how you screamed when my knife cut into you...." Basta sprang forward and held the knife to Dustfinger's throat. He tilted his head upward to avoid it. Basta jabbed; Dustfinger rose onto his tiptoes, barely evading the point of the knife.

"Maybe I'll kill you right now," Basta said softly, lightly drawing the edge of the blade across Dustfinger's throat. "Maybe I'll kill you both."

"You know what I saw earlier, Basta?" Dustfinger snarled. "A black cat. A black cat crossed my path, so you know what'll happen if you kill me?" Basta's knife paused and Dustfinger saw his eyes widen. "That's right. If a black cat crossed my path, then I have the bad luck, don't I? But then if you kill me...." Dustfinger shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure how these things work, but generally I think the bad luck would pass onto you, wouldn't it?" He shrugged again. "If you kill me, at least I won't be cursed anymore, huh?"

"You're lying." Basta's voice sounded uncertain.

Dustfinger raised his eyebrows. "Am I?" He smiled mockingly. "Maybe I'm not. Are you really prepared to take your chances, Basta?"

"Shut up!" Basta hissed angrily, pressing the flat of the blade to his throat. "I swear I'll kill you." Resa rushed up and grabbed Dustfinger by the arm. Dustfinger pushed her away.

"Don't worry. I'm handling it," he told her softly before turning back to Basta and lifting his chin defiantly. "All right. If you want the curse, go ahead and do it - " A small thin animal ran up the alleyway. "Gwin!" Dustfinger hissed. The marten scurried over and rose onto his hind legs between Basta and Dustfinger.

"Gwin," Dustfinger whispered. "Come here, Gwin...." Gwin, as usual, didn't listen. He scurried up Basta's legs, evoking a loud cry, and bit him on the wrist.

Basta yelled and lashed out with the knife, aiming for Gwin, but Gwin evaded the knife. Basta's knife slashed his own arm and he yelped in pain. Gwin was still crawling on Basta, biting him whenever he could. "Good boy, Gwin!" Dustfinger whispered, a smile spreading across his face. He ran to Resa and took her hand. "Let's go!" They ran past the flailing Basta, down the streets and to the field behind the red church. Dustfinger ducked down into the long grass, pulling Resa down beside him.

"Hide here awhile!" he whispered. "They'll be looking for us now!" He glanced over at her. "Thanks for jumping in front of me, Resa, but promise not to do it again. I've told you already, if one of us gets captured or killed, there's no sense in the other one going too. And let's face it, if one of us is going to die, it'll be me. Basta hates me." Resa reached over and covered his hand with hers.

Dustfinger sank even lower into the grass when he saw Basta and several of Capricorn's men searching the town. Basta was close enough that they could even hear him. "I'll kill that damned fire-eater when I catch him - make him wish he'd never been born!" Basta sputtered as he tramped straight past Resa and Dustfinger. Resa tightened her fingers around his hand. He slid his fingers through hers. "Stay here," he breathed as loudly as he dared.

The night wore on and Basta's men still searched the town. Dustfinger allowed himself a smile at how frustrated Basta must be getting - how stupid he was. Plain sight. Always one of the best places to hide.

----

The next morning Dustfinger woke to the touch of cold steel to his throat and Basta sneering down at him. He kicked him hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of Dustfinger. "Wake up, Dirtyfingers," he snarled, pressing the knife lightly against his neck. "Thought you could escape, did you? Your friend here is lucky I like her - _she_ won't be sentenced to death, at least." Dustfinger scrambled to his feet, clutching his stomach, and saw Resa struggling wildly against two of Basta's men. Basta laughed. "But you? We'll have to see what Capricorn has in store for you." He smiled twistedly. "No real loss to the world if you're given the death sentence, is it?"

Resa gave a small sob and mouthed his name. _Dustfinger_! Dustfinger started to her, but Basta pushed him back, threatening him with the knife. Dustfinger lifted his hands into the air and looked over into Resa's eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. As quickly as he could, he reached into his pocket, struck a match, and dropped it to the ground, knowing Basta's fear of fire. Then he turned and ran. He heard Basta's yell of dismay and glanced over his should to see Basta stomping on the flames, trying unsuccessfully to quench them. Resa was staring after Dustfinger, and he quickly turned his head away before he could see the look in her eyes and kept running until he made it into the forest. He jogged a few more yards, then slid down next to a tree, hatred of his own cowardice coursing through him.

Gwin ran up to him and sniffed his hand. Dustfinger stroked the marten's head with a finger, then pulled it back when Gwin snapped. "We'll go back tonight," he told Gwin quietly. "I'll see if she's okay. Nothing else I could have done, back there, could I? They were going to kill me." Gwin bared his teeth and said nothing.

**A/N Reviews are much loved and appreciated! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Yay, another chapter! I think this one kinda borders between the PG-13/R rating, but maybe I'm paranoid. Anyway, reviews are very appreaciated.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Inkheart, this whole chapter would have really happened and I would be a happy camper. Unfortunately, I don't own Inkheart, but since I did write this chapter, I suppose that does make me a happy camper. I also don't own the lyrics I put at the beginning.**

_Because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you_

_Over again_

_Don't make me change my mind_

_I won't live to see another day_

_I swear it's true_

_Because a girl like you's impossible to find_

_You're impossible to find_

-Fall for You-

-Secondhand Serenade-

Dustfinger crept into the maids' quarters silently and swiftly made his way down the hall to Resa's room and rapped on the door. "It's me," he whispered.

The door was flung open and Resa smacked him across the face. He stepped inside and shut the door. "I'm sorry."

_Coward_! she mouthed.

Dustfinger crossed his arms. "I told you I was a coward. What did you expect me to do? I would've been killed."

Resa was writing, not looking at him. She held up the paper. IF ONE OF US GETS CAUGHT, NO SENSE IN THE OTHER GOING TOO, HUH? She glared at him. I THOUGHT THAT MEANT YOU'D HELP ME ESCAPE.

"No, Resa! It meant if it was die or run, I'd run!" Dustfinger glared back.

Resa folded her arms and turned her face away, blinking.

Dustfinger went to her and took her hands, wiping tears from her cheek. "Did they hurt you?"

Resa shook her head and held up another paper. She had apparently anticipated this question. BASTA ONLY SAID IF IT HAPPENED AGAIN HE'D RUIN MY FACE WITH HIS KNIFE. THEY DIDN'T HURT ME THIS TIME.

Dustfinger stroked her cheek. "I told you it was a bad idea."

Resa shrugged and pulled away from him, flipping over one of her papers and scribbling on the back of it. BASTA KICKED YOU. ARE YOU ALL RIGHT? LET ME SEE.

"It's fine, Resa. I'm all right," Dustfinger assured her. Admittedly the cut on his stomach from Basta's boot was painful, but he would live.

Resa jabbed her finger at the last sentence of her note. Dustfinger rolled his eyes and pulled his shirt off. Resa clicked her tongue at the sight of the scrape, got a wet rag and handed it to Dustfinger. "Resa, you shouldn't do so much for me," he told her with a twisted smile.

Resa shrugged and with a sigh, wrote another sentence. I KNOW. BUT I CARE ABOUT YOU.

Dustfinger furrowed his brow. "Why?"

Resa shrugged, lowering her head again. Dustfinger went to her and took her face in his hands. "I'm sorry I'm such a coward. I'm not a good person, and I know it."

_You are a good person_, Resa mouthed, and kissed him. She pulled away and looked up at him, her expression unreadable.

"Resa..." breathed Dustfinger, then kissed her again. She placed a hand on the back of his head, pulling him closer and slid her other hand across his chest. Dustfinger kicked the wooden chair over to the door and shoved it under the doorknob. Resa pulled him back over to her and kissed him again, tears suddenly spilling from her eyes. Dustfinger wiped them away with his thumb and kissed her neck gently.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly.

_Nothing_, she answered.

"Are you sure?"

Resa nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck. Dustfinger backed her into the wall and kissed her more fiercely, pressing his body against hers. Her hands grasped his shoulder blades, and Dustfinger ran his hand down her body to rest on her hip. Resa sighed softly and twined her fingers into his hair. Dustfinger closed his eyes. "Resa."

_Dustfinger. Please, _Resa's lips said_._ She looked up at him with that same unreadable expression.

----

Dustfinger wrapped his arms around Resa tightly. She buried her face in his chest and they stood quietly for several moments.

He finally broke the silence. "I should go." He reached for his clothes and quickly dressed. "I probably won't see you for awhile...."

_What? You're leaving_? Resa mouthed, looking incredulous.

"Yes!" Dustfinger answered, pulling his shirt on. "They'll kill me if they catch me here again! And - " he snorted. "I'm a selfish coward."

Resa shook her head, and quickly wrote something down. YOU'RE NOT AS MUCH OF A COWARD AS YOU THINK YOU ARE.

Dustfinger laughed bitterly. "Oh yeah? What makes you think that?"

YOU CAME BACK TONIGHT, she printed.

Dustfinger shrugged and gestured awkwardly. "Well - that - Resa, I just came back to tell you good bye!" She folded her arms and looked at him. He raised his eyebrows. "And I seem to remember you calling me a coward when I first came in here." He pointed at her. "You're contradicting yourself."

Resa shook her head. Dustfinger laughed. "Yes, you are! I'm sorry, Resa, but I'm not the wonderful person you seem to think I am!" He grabbed her shoulders, running his hands down her arms. "You won't miss me when I go."

_Yes I will_!Resa looked indignant. Dustfinger fought back his wave of sympathy for her.

"Let me rephrase, then - you _shouldn't_ miss me when I go." Stop wallowing in self-hatred, Dustfinger, he thought to himself sharply, and forced himself to look indifferent. "You'll be fine."

YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE I HAVE!! Resa held up the paper and looked at him pleadingly.

And she's the only one you have, Dustfinger, he thought bitterly. "That's not true," he said aloud to Resa. "The other maids - you can talk to them..."

YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WHO MAKES AN EFFORT TO TALK TO A MUTE WOMAN! Resa's handwriting was bold and agitated. It was hard for Dustfinger to decipher it. He looked away from Resa's eyes.

"I'm sorry." He turned and climbed onto the windowsill. Resa followed him and grabbed his hand. Her eyes were filled with tears. Dustfinger reached over and gently brushed her cheek with his thumb. "I'll come back. Sometime. I don't know when, but I'll see you when I come back, all right?" Resa avoided his eyes and nodded. Dustfinger lowered his hand and leapt out the window to the street, landing catlike on all fours.

He straightened up. "Gwin!" he called softly. The marten scurried down the street to him and clambered onto his shoulder. "Just you and me for awhile now, huh, Gwin?" He scratched Gwin under the chin, earning himself a bitten finger, and looked up at Resa's window. Resa was still standing there, her face hidden in her hands. Then she wiped her face and shut the curtains.

She shouldn't be so sad, reflected Dustfinger, and neither should I. Gwin on his shoulder, he ran down the streets of Capricorn's village into the night.

**A/N Hope everyone is still enjoying! =)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Oh, what the heck. Have another chapter. XD I'm fond of this one as well. Mo's in it, and Meggie has a little cameo, huzzah. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: As previously established, I don't own Inkheart, which was written by Cornelia Funke. If I did....eh, I dunno what I'd do. I also don't own the song lyrics at the beginning of this chapter.**

_To be kicked when you're down _

_To feel like you've been pushed around _

_To be on the edge of breaking down _

_And no one's there to save you _

_Y__ou don't know what it's like _

_Welcome to my life _

-Welcome to My Life - Simple Plan-

Dustfinger walked up the short path to the little house - Silvertongue's house. The book-binder had moved since the night he'd brought Dustfinger to this accursed world, but it hadn't been terribly difficult to track him down. It had been - how long now? - eleven days since Dustfinger had left Capricorn's village and was trying with all his might to keep Resa from creeping into his thoughts. Gwin sat on his shoulder still, tail flicking. A good traveling companion. Gwin didn't talk back to Dustfinger.

Dustfinger wanted to go home. He was tired of this world and the heartache it brought. The heartache he shouldn't be feeling. A tiny part of him knew it was unlikely that Silvertongue still owned a copy of _Inkheart_, but he shoved the thought aside and clung onto his hope.

He reached the door to Silvertongue's home, considered knocking, then just opened the door and went inside. After all, Silvertongue hadn't knocked on _his_ door before yanking him out of his story.

The house was small, but looked comfortable. Books lay on every surface - picture books, well-thumbed paperbacks, children's stories. Dustfinger swore quietly. He'd forgotten Silvertongue's daughter - and he vehemently did not want to meet her. He could remember the girl from the night he'd come here - little blonde thing, big blue eyes, hiding behind her father's armchair and peering out in shock at the three men who'd invaded her home. Dustfinger had saved her life that night, he remembered, saved her and her father from Capricorn.

Dustfinger made his way through the living room and a kitchen before finding what had to be Silvertongue's workshop. There was a sign posted on the door, but the letters were too difficult for Dustfinger to read. Nothing like Resa's neat handwriting. He twisted the doorknob and stepped into the room.

The dark-haired man was sitting at the desk, surrounded by yet more books. He was bent over one in particular, carefully placing its pages back in order. "Silvertongue," Dustfinger said curtly.

Silvertongue looked up and jumped when he saw Dustfinger standing before him. "Dustfinger!" he gasped. "What - how did you get here?"

"A few well-placed questions about bookbinders and I was pointed straight to you," Dustfinger answered flatly. Gwin crouched lower on his shoulder and snarled at Silvertongue.

Silvertongue rose to his feet and nervously came around the desk to face him. "What do you want?"

"I want the book," Dustfinger growled. "I want the book and I want you to send me home."

"Dustfinger," the bookbinder said quietly. "Can we talk about this another time? My daughter - "

"No, we can talk about this now!" snarled Dustfinger, advancing on Silvertongue. "I never asked to be brought here! I never asked you to take me away from my _world_! But you suddenly think you can play God with us? Not expect us to want to go home?"

"I didn't know I would bring you here!" Silvertongue's eyes were wide. "I didn't know what would happen!"

"_Like hell you didn't!_" shouted Dustfinger. Silvertongue took a step backward from him. They both heard the front door slam. Dustfinger whipped his head around to glance at the doorway.

"I'm home, Mo!" called a happy child's voice.

Dustfinger turned back to the girl's father. "Keep her out of here. Tell her not to come in!"

"Let me go to her," he requested calmly. "Let me tell her to stay out of here."

Dustfinger glared at him for a moment, then stood aside. Silvertongue quickly went out the door and left it slightly open - Dustfinger watched closely.

"Hi, Mo!" the girl called, running to hug him.

"Hi, Meggie!" Silvertongue answered, hugging her tightly. Dustfinger could see the girl - her hair an all-too-familiar shade of blonde, her face a little too round, perhaps, but still Resa's....Dustfinger was glad he couldn't see her eyes. He turned his gaze away.

Silvertongue was still talking to his daughter. "And I'll be done soon, Meggie, so why don't you go read your books for a few minutes and I'll come see you when I'm finished working?"

"Okay," the girl agreed happily, and pattered down the hall. Silvertongue reentered his workshop.

Dustfinger looked up at him. "She's getting big."

Silvertongue nodded, unable to suppress his smile.

"How old is she?" Dustfinger asked in a mocking tone.

"Seven," Silvertongue answered, ignoring Dustfinger's insincerity.

"My oldest daughter would be nine now," Dustfinger said listlessly. "The younger would be six."

Silvertongue looked away. "Dustfinger, I'm so sorry. I don't have a copy of the book! Even if I did, I - "

"You don't have it anymore!" Dustfinger's heart sank horribly. "What happened?"

"It's _gone_. I haven't been able to find another copy. Believe me...believe me, I've looked."

"Look harder, then!" Dustfinger snapped.

"I'm _trying_, Dustfinger, I really am."

"You - haven't - tried!" Dustfinger roared, and in a burst of anger, swept several of Silvertongue's books to the floor. Gwin leapt to the floor indignantly. Silvertongue approached him.

"_Please_ keep your voice down, you'll scare Meggie!" Silvertongue said angrily.

"What about my daughters?" demanded Dustfinger. "Brianna and Rosanna? Did you ever think about how scared they would've been when I didn't come home four years ago? _Four years_, Silvertongue." He swallowed hard. "It's been four years. They're growing up without me. And Roxane...she'll think I'm dead. Or I've left her! Please, Silvertongue. Send me home."

Silvertongue placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Dustfinger. I understand what you're going through - "

"How can you possibly understand?" Dustfinger snarled. "You've never been through this..."

"You're not the only one who's lost family to that book," Silvertongue said softly. "My wife disappeared into that book the day you came out - did you forget that?"

No, I did not forget that, Dustfinger thought bitterly.

"Resa," Silvertongue went on quietly. "Resa was her name." He grabbed a framed photo from his desk and handed it to Dustfinger.

Dustfinger didn't want to look, but he did. It was a photo of Silvertongue and his family - Silvertongue on one side, a chubby baby girl in the middle - and on the other side was Resa, looking younger and happier than he'd ever seen her. Dustfinger shoved it back to him and turned away.

"Don't think you're the only one whose life changed that night," Silvertongue said sharply. "My daughter's grown up not knowing her mother - she barely remembers her."

"My daughters will barely remember me," Dustfinger snapped. He swallowed. "Silvertongue. When you find that book, will you send me home?"

Silvertongue sighed. "I don't know if it's possible. I can try, maybe. But I wouldn't get your hopes up."

Dustfinger closed his eyes. "There's something you should know." Resa. Resa, Resa, Resa. He wished he could stop thinking of her.

Silvertongue furrowed his brow. "What?"

Dustfinger opened his mouth, closed it, then started again, courage failing him. "Capricorn's - found another reader," he said in a rush. "But he can't read anyone out without damaging them. So, er...be on your guard, Silvertongue. Capricorn might try to bring you to his village."

"You know where Capricorn is?" Silvertongue asked incredulously.

"_Yes_," Dustfinger answered impatiently.

Silvertongue nodded. "Thank you for telling me. I'm so sorry I can't help you."

"Don't worry about it," he muttered. "No one can help me."

Silvertongue lowered his eyes in sadness. "I'm really very sorry."

"No matter how many times you say it, Silvertongue - " Dustfinger shook his head. "_Sorry_ just doesn't cover it!" He turned and went for the door.

"Leave by the back door, please," Silvertongue called quietly. "Don't scare Meggie."

Meggie, Meggie, Meggie. Was she all the man thought about? He wove his way through the house, Gwin following, past boxes of books and other household things, but mostly books. He found the back door quickly, but paused, staring at the box next to his feet. He bent down and moved one of the books aside. A photo of Resa was hidden under the book. Dustfinger glanced over his shoulder to make sure Silvertongue wasn't watching him, then picked up the photo and stowed it in his backpack.

He exited the house through the backyard, Gwin still right behind him.

**A/N Reviews are appreciated!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Eep, sorry it took me awhile to update! (smacks self) I've been super busy, but whatever, no excuse since I already had this one written when I posted the last one. Silly ol' me. Anyway, enjoy. I'm not sure how good this one is since there are some random mood swings on Dustfinger's part...oh well, just beware of the mood-swinging Dustfinger. XD **

**Disclaimer: If I owned Inkheart, there would have been more of Dustfinger in _Inkdeath_. I also don't own the lyrics, they are by Papa Roach.**

_I tear my heart open_

_I sew myself shut_

_And my weakness is that I care too much_

_My scars remind me that the past is real_

_I tear my heart open just to feel_

-Scars-

-Papa Roach-

Dustfinger lurked in the trees just beyond Capricorn's village, behind the field he and Resa had met in so many times. He laid flat on his back, staring up through the treetops at the night sky. He couldn't sleep. This forest reminded him so much of the Wayless Wood, but at the same time it was achingly _un_like it. The trees were too small, too young. The only creatures that fluttered above him were birds. He missed the fairies. He missed the fire-elves and their honey...he so missed talking to fire, hearing its crackling voice, and making it dance for him. And he missed Roxane. Dustfinger closed his eyes.

Gwin was sleeping, curled up next to a tree trunk nearby. Dustfinger extended a hand and stroked the marten's back; the only time he could really touch Gwin without getting a hiss or growl in return was when he was asleep. Dustfinger turned his head to look across to the village. Resa was beyond that field, missing her husband. Not missing him.

You're in love with her, Dustfinger, he thought. Should've taken better care with your heart. He hated his heart. Half of it ached to see Roxane and the other half was longing to go to Resa. He was so close to Resa now....he could run across the field and see her anytime he wanted. He should never have come back here. None of this could end well.

Dustfinger sighed and sat up. "Gwin?" The marten lifted his head irritably. "I'm hopeless." Gwin blinked at him and bared his teeth in a snarl. "You're lucky to be the heartless little monster you are, you know," Dustfinger went on. "You probably don't care about a living creature in the world other than yourself, do you? I wish I could be like that. You don't know the difference from here and home. You don't miss Roxane, or Brianna, or the Black Prince, or....." Gwin yawned widely.

Dustfinger stifled a laugh and stood, picking up Gwin and setting him on his shoulder. "Come on." Gwin growled sleepily in protest as Dustfinger jogged across the field.

Dustfinger walked quietly through the dark streets. It was very late - he knew most of Capricorn's men would be asleep. Probably the maids were as well. He looked up at Resa's window. To go inside or not to go inside?

Gwin suddenly jumped off Dustfinger's shoulders and scrambled up the wall. "Gwin!" Dustfinger hissed. "Get down!" Gwin remained on Resa's windowsill, tail twitching. Then he saw a light flicker on and the window open. Resa looked out the window, saw Gwin - Dustfinger could see her eyes widen. She peered out the window and a smile stole across her face. _Dustfinger_? she mouthed in surprise.

His lips twitched upward into a grin. "Hello, Resa!" he called back as loudly as he dared.

Resa swung her legs over the windowsill and jumped down.

"No - don't come down here! Are you insane?" Dustfinger demanded. Resa ignored him - she rushed over and threw her arms around his neck. Dustfinger hugged her back tightly.

Resa pulled back and raised her eyebrows, tracing his smile with her finger.

"What? Oh - " Dustfinger looked away. What was wrong with him? Minutes ago he'd been in the very depths of depression, now he was grinning like a fool. "I don't know, I just...." He trailed off.

Resa led him into the side alley where Basta had attacked them once - luckily he was nowhere to be seen this time. Resa slid down to the ground, leaning against the wall. _Missed you, too_, she mouthed.

Dustfinger sat down next to her. "Thought I told you _not_ to miss me."

Resa nodded, then shrugged.

"You did anyway? What am I going to do with you?" Dustfinger smiled and leaned his head against the wall. He considered telling her about Silvertongue, then changed his mind. "What would your husband say?"

Resa looked at him quizzically.

"You know." He shifted uncomfortably. "If he knew about - about the last time we saw each other. Would he be angry?"

Resa looked pensive, and reached into the pocket of her dress to get a scrap of paper and a pen. NO. SAD, I THINK. She handed Dustfinger a small candle from her pocket.

Dustfinger lit the candle and carefully read the words. He nodded, unable to think of anything to say.

I DON'T KNOW WHERE HE IS, OR HOW TO FIND HIM, Resa wrote, her expression sad.

"I'm sorry," Dustfinger answered her. Guilt pricked at him, but he said nothing. No point in getting her hopes up if she couldn't get away from here, right? Keep on telling yourself that, Dustfinger, the voice in his head said nastily.

WHAT ABOUT YOUR WIFE? Resa continued.

Dustfinger smiled humorlessly. "She'd be angry. Angry and disappointed - but not surprised. I'm afraid to her I was just one disappointment after the other."

Resa looked at him sympathetically. Dustfinger turned his face away. "Ah, don't worry about it. It was a long time ago. Long ago and far away." Farther away than anywhere he'd been before. To his dismay, the familiar gloom settled over Dustfinger's heart once again. Resa reached over and took his hand comfortingly. Dustfinger slipped his fingers through hers and looked up at the starless sky.

Resa wrote something slowly. WOULD YOU LIKE TO HEAR A STORY I READ ONCE? I THINK ABOUT IT SOMETIMES AND IT REMINDS ME OF YOU.

Dustfinger read the words by the dying light of the candle. He renewed the flame gently and looked at her. "A story that reminds you of me, a man from a story. Why not?"

Resa smiled and began writing. THERE WAS A MAN WHO WENT AWAY TO WAR, LEAVING BEHIND HIS BEAUTIFUL WIFE, PENELOPE. WHEN THE WAR ENDED HE WANTED NOTHING MORE THAN TO GO HOME.

Dustfinger read the tale as she wrote it. Penelope. Roxane was much easier to say, and surely much more beautiful. In his mind, the woman Penelope's hair was blonde. Roxane's was dark. Penelope pined away for her husband. Roxane....he knew Roxane would have moved on. "I see why it reminds you of me," Dustfinger finally said. The sun's first light was just beginning to peer over the trees. It had been a long night. "So if I were this man - " Dustfinger was unsure how to say his name. "This Ody-see-us - and Roxane were Penelope, I would get home in the end and live happily ever after." He smiled slightly at the thought. "Everyone seems to live happily ever after in stories. If only life were a story."

BUT WE WERE BOTH READ FROM A STORY, Resa printed. MAYBE YOURS WILL END HAPPILY.

Dustfinger squeezed Resa's hand. "I wish I had your optimism." He looked over at her. It was definitely getting lighter - instinct was screaming at Dustfinger to leave now. "So if Roxane and I were - " He didn't want to say the character's name again. Resa had laughed the first time. "If we were the man and wife in your story, what would that make you?"

Resa covered her mouth and laughed, her eyes sparkling like an amused child's. I DON'T THINK I'M IN THAT ONE, she wrote, still smiling. I'LL HAVE TO THINK ABOUT IT.

Dustfinger laughed with her. He loved to hear her laugh. "It's getting light. We should both go before Basta and his knife come along. Or Mortola." He knew Resa loathed Mortola as much as he himself detested Basta. He stood and extended a hand to help her to her feet. Gwin scurried out of the shadows where he had been sleeping and leapt onto Dustfinger's shoulder. Resa reached out and stroked Gwin's head carefully. To Dustfinger's surprise, the marten refrained from biting.

Dustfinger looked down at Resa, sorry to be parting again. "I'll come back," he said softly, feeling her hand touch his cheek. "When I can. Promise."

Resa nodded. She believed him. He gave her a soft smile and kissed her fingertips gently. "See you soon."

**A/N Reviews are appreciated, hope you enjoyed!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Phew, it's been awhile since I updated...very sorry about that. I'm a horribly slow writer who attempts to do far too many projects at once, so forgive the long wait. Anyway, I did this chapter in Resa's POV for the first time, so we get a glimpse of how she's feeling about the whole situation. ;-) Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Inkheart, I would have made sure Resa and Dusty were tied up in the net together in the movie. I have no idea why they changed it so only Resa was in the net. But it angered me. So anyway, yeah, obviously don't own it.**

Resa made her way back to her room quickly, nervously peering around corners for Basta before hurrying down the halls. Once in her room she went to the window and squinted into the distance, hoping for a glimpse of Dustfinger in the distance. She always worried when he was in the village, especially in daylight. It was extremely dangerous for him to be there; she could hardly believe he even took the risk anymore.

She thought about him a lot. It was strange...she could barely remember the days when _Inkheart_ was only a book to her. And now she'd been a part of it, could hate or love its world, its characters, as much as anyone who was _meant_ to be in the book could.

And then there was Dustfinger. _Dustfinger_. Resa had liked him even when he had only been a character in a book. She'd felt sorry for his sad life, and put a hand to her own cheek when she'd read about Basta cutting Dustfinger's face. Resa had always been one to become attached to characters. How often had she, as a little girl, wished the characters could step off the page and talk to her?

Dustfinger had done just that, in a way. She could still remember the way her heart skipped a beat when she'd first opened the door to find _Dustfinger _standing outside. He looked almost exactly as she'd pictured him when Mo had been reading her the book - in her head, however, he had never looked quite so sad. She wondered if this was just the result of being away from home for so long.

He was real now. A real person, with warm hands that held hers and a heart that beat strongly in his chest - a heart that Resa knew Dustfinger would do anything to keep beating. His own life was more important to him than anything - anything in this world, anyway.

Resa wondered why she didn't just tell Dustfinger about Mo. That she had accidentally been read into the book, just as he had been read out, as Darius had read her out. That this was the world she belonged in, not his. Yes, she'd started to tell him a couple times, but almost as if he suspected what she was going to tell him, he'd changed the subject. But if you really wanted him to know, Resa, she thought angrily to herself, you could tell him. She certainly hadn't tried very hard. It wasn't that she didn't miss Mo. It wasn't that she was happy here - who could be happy here? It was something else.

She was not clear about how she felt about Dustfinger. It would be easier - much easier - to communicate with him, to talk things out, if she had her voice. Not being able to speak was something that drove her crazy every single second of every single day. Most of the other maids had no time or patience to try and talk to her. There were one or two would would talk _at_ her sometimes, barely waiting for her to respond - because if she _couldn't_ talk, she surely had nothing to say. That was their reasoning, anyway.

Dustfinger certainly understood her better than anyone else. He was kinder to her than anyone had been for almost five years. It still didn't explain her rush of happiness whenever she saw him, or the way she hugged him so tightly whenever he came back to the village. He hid his feelings so well, Resa couldn't be sure of what he thought at any given time. Sometimes she saw him slip up, saw warm affection in his eyes, but then his guard was back up, guarded from showing her his feelings.

Resa should have taken a leaf out of his book and guarded her heart as well as he could. She loved him - she couldn't deny it anymore, she was absolutely, stupidly, idiotically in love with Dustfinger. It hurt to think about what would happen if Dustfinger were to make it home. She knew he was still in love with Roxane. She knew she herself was still in love with Mo. Unfaithful, Resa? What would Mo say? She knew what Mo would do - he'd look at her, sadness clear on his face - that would hurt - and he'd forgive her, because that was the kind of man Mo was.

And if she were to tell Dustfinger about Mo? He'd look at with his guarded, expressionless eyes and answer in monosyllabic, detached sentences. She couldn't stand the idea.

So just keep doing what you're doing, Resa? she thought bitterly. Lead him on, only to leave for Mo when you find him again?

But I'm not leading him on, she argued with herself. _I love him_.

Resa noticed tears were sliding down her cheeks - she lowered her head onto her arms and sobbed quietly. Why did life have to be so difficult?

The door to her room banged open and Resa sprang to her feet to find Mortola standing there, looking murderous.

"If you are late coming out of this room one more time - " The Magpie's chest heaved as she spoke. She paid no attention to Resa's tearstained face. "I will make sure my son finds out about your sneaking off with that fire-eater of yours. Get downstairs and get to work in the kitchen. The floor needs scrubbing."

For once, Resa was thankful for her inability to speak because she knew she would have had no control over what she would have said to Mortola at that moment. She glared at her and held up a finger - _one minute and I'll be down_. Mortola glared at her, then walked off down the hallway. Resa listened to make sure she was gone; then, heart thudding, she climbed over the window ledge and dropped to the street before. She'd get away - she didn't know where she'd go, but anywhere was better than here. This time she'd go alone. Dustfinger had said over and over that if one of them got caught, there was no sense in the other going too. Resa was beginning to see the sense in that. She wouldn't be able to bear it if he was sentenced to death because of her.

**A/N Hope you're all still liking this, reviews are appreciated! **


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